


Happy Birthday Miss Busybody

by Penthesilea1623



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: 8 year old Annie who is as quirky as you'd expect, Annie Hawke's birthday, F/M, Malcolm Hawke does not approve, casual drug and alcohol use, young and unreformed Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:27:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7015246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthesilea1623/pseuds/Penthesilea1623
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I offered the lovely and talented pixelatrix a drabble for her birthday, and she asked for something with Annie and birthdays from the 'A Happy Accident' universe. I wrote it and posted it on my tumblr.</p><p>It was intended to be a purely speculative 'what if Sebastian Vael and Annie Hawke had met before' one shot but somewhere along the line, it's become canon, and will be come up in later chapters of A Happy Accident.</p><p>It takes place before the events of A Happy Accident, and ended up being more about Sebastian than Annie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday Miss Busybody

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pixelatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/gifts).



Twenty year old Sebastian Vael sat in the manager’s office at the Gnawed Noble Tavern in Denerim, wondering how it was that he’d fucked up his life quite this badly.

He could hear the rush and bustle still going on outside the room, and then more sirens. He stood, flicking back the curtain: two more police cars and _finally_ a fucking ambulance.

He wondered how Frank was doing, if he was even still alive. He didn’t know why he cared: Frank was just another in a long line of hangers-on who knew if they stuck around long enough, and proved sufficiently amusing and resourceful he’d keep them with him as he ignored his university classes, traveling from one glamorous and glittering city to another, but never one place for too long, because Maker knew they all got dull after a few days, and once it got dull he’d start to think, about his life and about his choices, and that never led to anything good.

He rubbed his head. All he wanted to do was sleep, sleep and forget, shut it all out, but given the substances he’d poured into his body earlier in the evening in preparation for the planned debauchery, that seemed unlikely. 

That policeman, Sergeant Kylon, the one who had been the first to arrive, had wanted to hold him or arrest him, or at the very least go through his pockets which would have proved awkward in the extreme if he'd succeeded, but Sebastian had fumbled in his wallet and pulled out his ‘get out of jail free’ card: the one with the private number of Starkhaven’s ambassador to Ferelden.

The Sergeant had scowled as he’d taken it, and the scowl had deepened as he'd read it and realized what it meant.

Sebastian hadn't been able to resist needling him. “That’s right, my fine fellow. Diplomatic immunity. You wouldn’t want to cause an incident, now would you?” Sebastian had said in a mocking tone, though his heart had been pounding and he’d had to work to keep his hand steady as he held out the card.

The glare he’d received had told him that very possibly the man did, but Sebastian knew he wouldn’t, they never did, and sure enough as soon as the man was off the phone, he’d been escorted here, to this dingy little office to await the arrival of the ambassador, apparently out of town for the weekend, but on his way back now.

Sebastian could already hear the lecture that would no doubt accompany the man. The ambassador's mouth would be moving but it would be Sebastian's father's words pouring out. 

It almost made him want to take his chance with the Sergeant, he thought, but remembering the contents of his pockets he reconsidered.

_What in the Maker's name was he doing with his life?_

He straightened up as the door opened, but it wasn’t the ambassador, or the policeman, it was that other man, the one he assumed must be some kind of doctor, the one who’d pushed him out of the way when Frank had suddenly crashed to floor, twitching and foaming at the mouth.

He didn’t want to think about that. “I’m fine.” He said before the man could speak

He was an odd looking fellow, middle-aged, small and wiry, with curly red hair badly in need of a trim, wearing a shabby suit, and horn-rimmed glasses. “I sincerely doubt that, but in any case, that wasn’t my question.”

His voice was deep and rich and melodious, utterly at odds with his appearance, but strangely soothing. He was giving Sebastian a look that was either sympathetic or pitying and Sebastian didn’t care for either option, didn’t trust it, and that opinion that was confirmed by the next words out of the man’s mouth.

“Tell me what your friend took.” 

Sebastian let his face go blank. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” He said blandly and sat down in one of the chairs, stretching his legs out and resting his feet on the desk.

“Is saving your own hide worth your friend’s losing his life?”

The voice was harsher now and how on Thedas did a man so small have a voice so commanding? It must be the Ecstasy he’d taken earlier, Sebastian decided. It always made things more intense. “That’s a bit melodramatic, old chap, don’t you think?” He said with a smirk. He jerked forward when the man unceremoniously shoved his feet off the desk.

“Get this through your thick skull. This isn’t a game. Your friend has overdosed. If I don’t know what he’s taken it’s very likely he will die tonight. Now stop being such a horse’s ass and tell me what he took.” The man’s eyes were blazing with anger, and _shit_ , he must be more fucked up than he’d realized because he couldn’t tell if they were blue or green. They seemed to be both, and fuck, was there really a chance Frank was going to die?

Something must have shown in his face, because the anger disappeared and that pitying look was back. “Doctor patient privilege. I won't tell anyone. This is just between the two of us.” 

And for some reason Sebastian believed him. “Marijuana earlier today. Ecstasy. He might have taken some Adderall before we left the hotel.” 

The doctor's gave him a penetrating look. "Might have, or did?"

Sebastian swallowed. "Did." He admitted.

The man closed his eyes as if counting to ten. “And alcohol.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes. “

The man opened his eyes again, fixing that penetrating gaze on Sebastian. “And what about you?” 

“Me?” He repeated stupidly.

“You. What did you take?”

“I don’t do…” His voice trailed off. He didn’t know why but couldn’t seem to lie to him. “The same. Not the Adderall. And not nearly as much of the other stuff as poor old Frank. I’m not stupid.” 

“That’s up for debate, actually.” The doctor said dryly. 

Sebastian could feel himself flushing. It had been years since he felt this uncomfortable. “I do it all the time,” He protested. “I know what I can handle.”

“I’m sure 'poor old Frank' was thinking much the same before he had that seizure. Sit.” He ordered.

Sebastian sat automatically. What was it about this man? 

He reached down and took Sebastian’s pulse, and then, pulling out a pen light, shone it in his eyes. 

Sebastian flinched at the sudden brightness, but before he could protest, the light was gone.

“I want you to wait here.” The doctor told him. “I’m going in the ambulance with your friend so I can fill in the doctors at the hospital, and then I’m coming back here to check you out more thoroughly.” He put the penlight back in his jacket and rested a reassuring hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “You did the right thing telling me, lad.”

 _Lad_. No one had called him that in years.

“And while you’re waiting, there’s something you can do for me.” He walked out of the room, but was back in less than a minute with an oddly dressed little girl. She was small and skinny, her hair as red and curly as his, but far more wild, and unsuccessfully held back by a red hair ribbon tied in an uneven bow. She wore a white party dress with a stain on the front and a pair of shocking pink cat-eye sunglasses liberally decorated with rhinestones. She carried a violently colored patchwork messenger bag on her shoulder that she was clutching tightly to her. One of her knee socks was down around her ankle.

“This is my daughter.” The doctor said. “I’m leaving her here with you, until I get back.” 

Sebastian stared at him, aghast. “You want me to babysit?”

The doctor laughed. “She doesn’t need babysitting nearly as much as you do, lad, isn’t that right?” He said smiling down at her.

She grinned up at him, and his whole face softened.

He knelt down in front of her. “Give us a kiss.” He said, and she flung her arms around his neck and gave him a smack on the cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Sergeant Kylon’s right outside if you need anything.“ He straightened up. “Love you, Little Hawke.”

She grinned again, or perhaps she’d never stopped. “Love you too, Da.”

The door closed behind him and she turned to face Sebastian. 

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Sebastian could feel the panic rising. What did one do with children? What if it started crying? What if it had to go to the bathroom? 

She tilted her head suddenly giving him a sympathetic look almost identical to the one her father had given him earlier. “I’m sorry your friend is sick.” She said. “My sister was sick for a while. It’s scary when that happens. We could play a game if you like. It might distract you: that can help when you’re worrying but there’s nothing you can do to fix it.” 

She seemed completely unfazed at being left alone with a stranger. “All right.” 

And the grin was back. She dragged another chair over and climbed into it, sitting cross legged. She took off the sunglasses and threw them on the table before pulling the messenger bag into her lap and flipping it open. “I’ve got a chess set and coloring books, and a book of mazes – we could each take a page and have a race to see who finishes first, that’s fun to do, but I always win which makes it less fun. I’ve got a deck of cards, but I only know kid’s games, Go Fish, and Crazy 8’s and War. Ooh! I’ve got this Qunari game that was invented in Par Vollen over a thousand years ago that Da just bought me at The Wonders of Thedas. It’s sort of like checkers and sort of like backgammon and a little bit like chess but not really like any of them. I’m still reading the instructions but it seems very promising and maybe you could help me figure it out. Have you ever been there?”

He frowned, trying to keep up with her, not certain if he would have been able to even if he were sober. “Par Vollen?”

She laughed. “No, silly. The Wonders of Thedas.” 

She wasn’t a pretty child, not really: her face was all angles, her eyes were too large, her mouth was lopsided, the upper lip far larger than the lower, and she had too many freckles. She was in fact an almost perfect replica of her father, but he had to admit she had a way about her, and a certain charm.

“Yes." He finally said. "My grandfather used to take me there whenever we came here.” 

Her eyes widened as he spoke. “Are you from Starkhaven?” She asked excitedly.

He eyes her warily. “Yes…” She was looking at him expectantly so he added. “I attend university there.” Though Maker knew it had been months since he’d set foot in a lecture hall.

She clapped her hands in delight. “I love Starkhaven accents. Say something else.”

His head was suddenly throbbing. “I need a drink.” He muttered rubbing it. His alcoholic haze was beginning to wear off and that was never good.

“Are you going to be sick?” She sounded fascinated.

He gave her a withering look that she appeared not to notice. “Not until later.” He said dryly,

“Oh. Do you really need a drink, or was that just something you said?”

She was the oddest child. “I really need a drink.” He told her honestly.

Without a word she slid off the chair and headed for the door. She opened it disappeared and almost instantly reappeared. “You aren’t going to disappear while I’m gone are you?” She asked, giving him a worried look.

The idea honestly hadn’t occurred to him. “No.” He said automatically.

The worry changed to downright suspicion. “Do you promise?”

He thought about it. That sergeant would probably be all too happy to arrest him if he tried to leave before the ambassador got here, so there was no point in trying. “I promise.”

Another flash of a grin and with this one he noticed she had a dimple, and that she was missing a couple of baby teeth. To his surprise he found himself smiling back. 

The smile vanished and her eyes went round but before he could ask why, she’d disappeared again. 

He stared at the door. The oddest child. More interesting than most but odd nonetheless.

She returned a few minutes later with a can of Sprite in one hand and a glass of ice in the other. She placed both on the desk in front of him.

He stared at them. 

That wasn’t what he’d meant by a drink.

Then, reaching into her bag she pulled out a banana and a half-filled bag of pretzels, and placed them down as well.

He frowned. “What’s all this?”

“I called Da: Sergeant Kylon let me use his phone. I told Da you were thirsty and he said you were probably dehydrated and to give you this. The Sprite has something in it that makes the thing that gives you a hangover not give you a hangover: I can’t remember what Da called it – alde something. The banana has potassium, and the pretzels have salt which you need too. I got the banana from the kitchen. They didn’t have pretzels, but I had some in my bag, so that’s lucky isn’t it?” She gave him a curious look. “Do grownup drinks really make you pee that much?” 

Maker, she talked a lot. “You are the oddest child.” He had the feeling he’d said it before.

Again the grin.

He didn’t know what to make of her. He took a pretzel and took a tentative bite, and realized to his surprise he was hungry. He grabbed a couple more. “How old are you?” He asked her. She looked about six, but if you went by the way she behaved and spoke she could have been anything from ten to thirty-five.

She had climbed back into the chair. “I’m eight. Today’s my birthday. That’s why Da and I are here. At the restaurant I mean, not in Denerim. We’re in Denerim because Da was giving a lecture at a medical conference. Mother was supposed to come but then Carver fell out of a tree and broke his ankle and he’s such a grouch when he’s not feeling well that Mother didn’t think it was fair to inflict him on the babysitter, so I got to come instead, _and_ I got to choose where we’d have my birthday dinner.” She picked up the diamante sunglasses and put them back on, pushing them further up the bridge of her nose with one finger. “Did you know that Gnawed Noble Tavern has been here since before the Dragon Age?” 

“No.” _Shit._ A special treat, a birthday dinner, no doubt ruined by him and his friends barging in and drunkenly commandeering a table, loud, rowdy, disrupting everything even before Frank…

He closed his eyes and rubbed them, opening them again when he heard the sound of the can being opened, and the soda being poured into the glass.

She was kneeling on the chair and leaning over the desk, she pushed the glass towards him. “Drink it. You’ll feel better.”

“The soda has magical properties, does it?” he asked with a smile as he reached for it 

Again, her eyes went round and this time her cheeks turned a pink so deep it clashed with her hair. “Da says magic is just science we haven’t figured out yet.” She informed him. “But what he said about the soda made it sound like it had already been figured out, so it’s probably just science.”

Faced with such irrefutable logic he lifted the glass and drank and whether it was the science or something else, he did feel better. 

She was watching him through those ridiculous sunglasses. “Do you want me to peel the banana for you?”

“I think I can manage that much.” When he made no move to pick it up she pushed it forward and gave him a pointed look.

Rolling his eyes he picked it up and began to peel it. He took a bite trying to remember the last time he’d had a piece of fruit that wasn’t in a drink.

“How come you and your friends drink and do drugs?”

He’d just taken another bite of the banana and he nearly choked on it. “I beg your pardon?” He said when he’d stopped coughing. Had her father actually told her…

“It’s all right." She assured him. "Da told me so I could keep an eye on you in case you had a fit like your friend. He didn’t think you would because you didn’t take as many drugs, but he wanted me to be prepared just in case. If they make you feel sick and they’re so dangerous how come you take them?” 

That was the question wasn't it. “You’re a bit of a busybody, has anyone ever told you that?”

She seemed unperturbed. “Oh, yes. All the time.” 

He stared at her for a moment and then stood and walked over to the window, feeling even shakier than before. Things were starting to wear off and he wondered how much longer it would be until he could remedy that. If it weren’t for his babysitter he could have already, everything he needed was in the pocket of his leather jacket, and for the first time he wondered if that doctor had realized that, and if that wasn’t the reason he’d left this strange little girl here. It would have made more sense to leave her with that sergeant, or the hostess, with anybody other than a disreputable waste like him, high on drink and drugs. 

He certainly wouldn’t have left his child with anyone like that. Like him. His eye began to sting and he leaned his head against the window frame. 

_What the fuck was he doing with his life?_

He felt a small hand slip into his. “I’m sorry you’re sad.” The sunglasses had slipped down her nose again. She had pretty eyes, blue, he thought, but he wasn’t sure. “Are you going to get into a lot of trouble?”

He gave a huff of laughter. “Probably, but that’s nothing new.” 

“I get into trouble all the time. It’s fun when you’re doing it but it’s awful later.”

Truer words had never been spoken. “No one likes being punished.” He agreed.

“Not the being punished part. I meant disappointing the people who care about you – letting them down.”

“I don’t have anyone who cares enough about me to feel let down by what I do.” He couldn't believe he'd said it out loud. _Pathetic sod_ , he thought scornfully.

His companion was uncharacteristically silent and he looked down at her.

She was staring up at him and she looked horrified. “Not anyone?” She asked in disbelief.

He thought of his grandfather, and a lump formed in his throat. Maker, he missed him. “No. Not anymore.” He pulled his hand free and went back to his chair.

She trailed after him. “There must be someone. Not here? Not in Starkhaven? Not anyone in Thedas?”

He opened his mouth to say no, no one, and suddenly found himself thinking of his godmother, Elthina. 

He hadn’t spoken to her in years, not since he’d seen the expression on her face when he’d shown up so drunk at an official state dinner that he could barely stand. 

_It’s awful isn’t it, letting people down._

He hadn’t seen her since then, and he'd ignored her phone calls and letters.

“There is someone!” The child sounded triumphant.

“No.” Sebastian denied. “No, Miss Busybody, there isn’t.” 

Was there? The phone calls and letters still came, less frequently than in the first few months after that debacle, but like clockwork on every holiday, and every birthday. 

Elthina was the only one who remembered his birthday these days.

The thought of birthdays reminded him of his companion, still staring up at him. “I’m sorry about spoiling your birthday.” He said.

She gave him a crooked grin. “That’s okay. It was kind of exciting once Da told me your friend would be okay. I am sad about the cake though.”

“The cake?”

She nodded. “Da had arranged it as a special treat. The waiter was just bringing it out when your friend got sick and Da banged into him when he was running to help and it fell on the floor. It was a whole cake, not just a piece, and chocolate, and Da said we could bring it back to the hotel and have it for breakfast in the morning as long as we didn't tell Mother.“ She helped herself to one of the pretzels. “So who’s this person you remembered before?”

“No one." He said immediately.

She raised a dubious eyebrow. 

"My godmother.” He admitted.

Her whole face lit up. “But that’s perfect! Godmothers in stories are always wonderful, and they always want to help. You should talk to her. Or go see her. You could just turn up on her doorstep and surprise her.” She told him. “I’ll bet she’d like that.”

“I can’t.” Could he?

“But…”

“Didn’t you want to play a game?” He asked desperately. “I’ll teach you to play Wicked Grace if you like.” 

Her face lit up. “Truly?”

This couldn’t be the appropriate thing to do with an eight year old. “Truly.”

She scrambled into the chair and after rummaging in her bag for a moment pulled out a deck of cards and passed them to him.

He shuffled them and then began dealing. 

She watched, fascinated.

“What’s your name, anyway?” He asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could the door opened, revealing the very honorable and very unhappy Ambassador from Starkhaven. 

The man didn’t bother with a greeting, and Sebastian couldn’t blame him, actually. He and his friends and been wreaking havoc all over Ferelden for more than a fortnight. “There’s a car waiting outside to take you to the airport, Your High-…”

Sebastian cut him off. “Yes.” It was probably just as well. His head was throbbing now and he doubted he could have remembered the rules of Wicked Grace anyway. Not that there were any hard rules. More like guidelines. He got to his feet. “My apologies, little one. Duty beckons.”

The Ambassador gave a snort.

Sebastian was almost through the door when he heard her shout, “Wait!”

He turned and she came running up to him, shoving the bag of pretzels at him. He looked down at them in confusion.

“In case you feel sick on the plane.” She explained earnestly. 

He didn’t know why the offer of a half-eaten bag of pretzels would render him incapable of speech, but it did. He managed to reach out and tug on one red curl before the ambassador was ushering him through the restaurant and out the door.

 

Annie Hawke stared after him. 

She’d never seen a man so beautiful, hadn’t even realized men could be that beautiful not until he’d smiled at her. He was like a prince in a fairy tale. She couldn't wait to tell Bethany about him, but then she realized the whole evening was probably going to fall under the category of 'let's just keep this between the two of us, Little Hawke, your mother wouldn't understand and it would just make her worry.'. 

She and Da had had quite a few adventures like that.

Sergeant Kylon walked up and crouched down beside her.

“Your father just called, Annie." He said in a kind voice. "He’ll back here in about twenty minutes.”

She nodded, and looked back at the door. 

Sergeant Kylon frowned wondering how the prince had managed to charm even this little girl, even with the amount of alcohol and drugs that were in his system. He glanced back into the office, spotting the deck of cards on the desk. “Would you like to play cards?" He offered. "I’ve been told I play a mean game of Go Fish.”

She gave a small sigh, before looking up at him and smiling. “Yes, thank you, Sergeant Kylon. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

 

Sebastian slouched in the back seat of the limousine, eyes closed, barely listening to the Ambassador’s lecture. 

“His Highness is most displeased. Most displeased. Your plane leaves in an hour. You are not to speak to anyone, either in the first class lounge, or on the plane. You'll be met at the airport and escorted to the palace. Obviously it will be far too late for his Highness to see you tonight, but he expects you in his study at 8 AM sharp tomorrow morning.” 

Sebastian’s fist clenched, producing an unexpected crinkling noise. He opened his eyes, looking down at the bag of pretzels he was still holding.

_Go see her. You could just turn up on her doorstep and surprise her. I’ll bet she’d like that._

_I’ll bet she could help._

“No.” He said abruptly, cutting off the ambassador.

“No?” The ambassador repeated. “Your Highness, I think you're failing to understand the gravity of the situation…”

“Fuck the gravity of the situation.” Sebastian announced, enjoying how the man spluttered. “I'm going to see my godmother. Get me on a flight to Kirkwall. And thenfind out the name of that doctor who saved Frank. He’s in Denerim for some kind of medical conference. I want a chocolate cake delivered to his hotel room in time for breakfast.”

“A chocolate cake?” The ambassador was squeaking he was so outraged..

“Yes, the biggest, gooiest, most frosting laden cake in all of Denerim. And have them write Happy Birthday…” His voice trailed off. 

He never had learned her name. He smiled suddenly. “Have them write _Happy Birthday Miss Busybody_.”

The ambassador opened his mouth to protest again and again Sebastian cut him off. “Just do it, or I’ll raise a scene at the airport that will have you banished to the farthest outpost in Thedas working as a file clerk.” He said, and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. 

Happy Birthday Miss Busybody.

If anyone could figure out what that meant it would be that odd little girl.

**Author's Note:**

> photos, references and Dragon Age related stuff can be found on my tumblr [A Happy Accident photo/style references](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/search/a+happy+accident)


End file.
